


Dreams of Tomorrow

by VanishedGalaxy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9109981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanishedGalaxy/pseuds/VanishedGalaxy
Summary: If I am to be gone tomorrow, I will pull you along today.So we can be gone together, by the morning ray.We’ll be lost in seas of alcohol and fields of growing weed.We’ll feed on Ecstasy and dress only in our skin.-A story about two dreamers who promised to meet again when there’d be no one else to hurt them.





	1. Tick

**Author's Note:**

> My entry in 'No Happy Ending Fic Fest' event that took place this year.

_Drip._

_Drop._

It was calming to say the least.

Luhan stared at the white ceiling with a stone-cold expression. No emotion reached his features, not even his eyes. There was only this emptiness, and the silence around him. And he basked in it like a pig in a muddy pit.

Somewhere across the room, Luhan could hear a fly buzzing ever so loudly, disturbing the quietness and stillness of the room. There was this stink too, but he enjoyed the smell. He was sure the open window would most likely lure some more of the flying scavengers inside, but he moved not to close it. He let it be.

Yes, he let everything be.

He let everything roll in the direction it should—there was nothing that could stop what was coming.

He could already feel the end, and it was so close to him he could almost inhale the freedom.

Luhan huffed at himself and turned to his side. His eyes stared into the darkest corner of the small bedroom. There, something shinned, barely catching his attention, and his whole complexion relaxed just the slightest.

It was funny his love believed in nonsense such as lucky charms. It was also ironic he was still wearing it whilst his body lay there without any trace of blood.

Luhan snickered at his lover’s foolishness.

Only to have that spark of happiness stolen.

It was coming.

The end was near.

It’ll all be over soon.

He’d been waiting so long already.

For this _paradise_.

***

Jongin was always busy. There was always something for him to do, always somewhere to go, always somewhere to be. He was of the kind of people who withered if they stayed in one place and thrived if they were constantly on the move.

That alone had made him into the fit dancer he had become. With a muscled figure, with a tall built, with skin soaked in sweat most of the time. His teachers didn’t like his inability to stay put, and consequently, neither did his parents when reports and warnings arrived in their mail about their only-son’s unacceptable behavior during classes. When that happened, Jongin got a nice scolding and had his activities restricted.

But that never stopped the ever-troublemaker in him.

It was after he was sent to university in the capitol of Korea that he started to venture even further. There was something intriguing in the nightlife that made Jongin wander through the alleyways after midnight, clutching on some bottle of alcohol and a random woman wrapped under his arm. His friends were the kind parents would characterize as _bad influence_ but Jongin would be too immersed in dancing and his own little world to notice anything like that. If anything, he saw the exact opposite.

He saw the same disowned sons and daughters who wanted to follow their own path but their parents refused. _So cute_ , Jongin often thought, that they had found solace in their little group of friends, some empathy in one another. They should have been way past the age of arguing with their parents because they “didn’t understand”, but Jongin was sure they all felt the same.

Their parents _didn’t_ understand.

The girl giggled, Jongin took another mouthful of alcohol, and it burned his throat as it went down and into his empty stomach. He knew he was practically poisoning himself, but he wanted just that. It was sweet, the taste of vomit in his mouth after a full night of heavy drinking. And he refused to have it any other way.

“And then—“ the brunet male hiccupped, laughing some drunkenly, “Jongin pushed him off the counter! Wonder how drunk the cock-sucker was!”

Jongin grinned lazily at the story as he leaned down to peck the woman’s lips. He didn’t know her. In fact, he doubted he even remembered her name after such a long night. Sometime a good while ago, he’d started calling her “bunny” so now he couldn’t refer to her some way different.

“Suits him right. Those gays are not meant to be alive. If it was me…” the tallest in the group clenched his fists and Jongin had to look up from heavy eyelids and smirk.

“I had to keep dancing, Chanyeol. Otherwise, how were we supposed to get all this free alcohol?”

Chanyeol silently agreed but wore a sour look nonetheless.

It was no secret that they hated such people. Truthfully, Jongin doubted Chanyeol and Baekhyun even thought they were humans. Homosexuals were just an abomination and it wasn’t a few times he had seen them bully and beat up some just for that. It was a pained story but he didn’t care much. They were his friends so he accepted however they came, with whatever mind they carried in their heads.

“Should we go to the park?” Yixing asked as he stumbled in the corner of Jongin’s eye. He was the most messed up of them all, if his drinking and drug use were anything to go by. He had also an arm wrapped around a woman and, truthfully, the blond didn’t even remember her face. “We still have alcohol, right?”

Jongdae, who shuffled his feet lazily against the pavement laughed giddily. “I have like three bottles on me!” The young man was holding onto three for dear life, and Jongin wondered if they’d paid for them or just grabbed them from behind the bar when no one was looking—which Jongdae had done far too many times by then, and had their group kicked out of big clubs more than a couple times already. Joonmyun helped him by taking one off his grip, holding on two more himself.

“I think we have more than enough.”

Baekhyun’s grin was wide, eyes shining from drunkenness as he leaned against the wall for a couple seconds. Then, once his head stopped twirling around, he continued to lead the group ahead.

To where, no one knew.

They just wandered.

And hoped life would spare their poor souls on their way there.

***

Mornings were always Hell on Earth for Jongin. The drawn curtains would prevent the sunlight from coming in and it’d only be his hangover that would wake him up sometime during noon or early afternoon.  His head would feel like being torn in two, his insides burned, and his bones felt rusted and sore after dancing, clubbing, drinking and what-else. He’d turn to find a naked back lying under the covers, belonging to yet another woman he didn’t know the name of.

And he’d stand up—slowly, because everything spun.

And he’d walk out of his room into his bathroom—not fast movements, his stomach couldn’t handle it.

And he’d retch his thoughts into his toilet because _so be it_.

As long as he had his sanity intact, he was pleased enough.

The wallet hung dangerously from his pocket and he tried to grab at it in the air as it slid, only to tackle it and lose it somewhere on the floor. He guessed that since he still had it, last night was a success.

Mornings like these, he’d be hesitant to face himself in the mirror. There was something in his empty, tired eyes, something in his exhausted expression, something in his unkempt dye-burned hair and spotted complexion that made him wonder how he’d turned _so_ _ugly_. And more importantly; _when_. It felt like ages since he had a normal appearance. Well, normal as in socially accepted. _This_ , this was normal for him.

He’d lie to himself that he didn’t remember his life years back. He did remember however, he just refused to reminisce any of those memories. They were cancerous and only made him guilty of how his life had made such a turn. A small smile appeared on the mirror and it cracked from all the emotions kicked into the hidden corners of his mind. He wasn’t guilty. In fact, he was proud. Because he had his own income, as unstable as it was, coming into his pocket every other night. And it was somehow enough to sustain him and his rundown apartment.

So life was good, right?

He shuffled his feet back into his bedroom and grabbed the bottle of yesterday’s leftover alcohol, gulping a good mouthful and letting a hiss into the silence. It pounded his head and he grabbed on the side of it in an attempt of making it stop. The body next to him shuffled and he found the face of a sleepy woman staring at him under heavy-lidded eyes. Jongin let a weak tired smile show before he leaned over her and kissed her lips. He could see how she was still barely awake but he didn’t want to pass this kind of chance, especially not when the reality past the front door was a huge fraud.

Jongin didn’t know much.

But he was sure that one plus one equates two.

***

His little spotlight ended when he sat down on the counter, long legs hanging. Some women tried to flirt with him but he gave no mind as he jumped off the bar and landed on unsteady feet. He doubted anyone else would be brave enough to do dance and stunts like he on the counter but he was trusted and due to his calculative fluid-like movements, he was able to land a gig in each of the bars around the blocks—and be paid for that.

Jongin knew there were better than him and had he been in his right judgment, he’d blame everything in his everyday drinking that kept him from becoming better. But he wasn’t, thus, his dancing was enough and if he got money for it, it was more than enough. Jongdae often said that the only reason Jongin was invited for such jobs was because he was handsome and flirtatious, thus flocking the women in one place. He stopped though, when Jongin warned him he’d stop his constant supply of free alcohol and access to big clubs. After that, it was never mentioned again.

This night, they were in one of the bars in some alleys Jongin hadn’t cared enough to remember. He’d find his way home, eventually. His group of friends were somewhere in the back, in some VIP section, and he decided to head for the restrooms before he had to go to them, since it was a hassle to get there.

Stairs led down and the lightning was poor the farther he got. Some random people stood in the hall; some couples making out and groping each other, some junkies injecting things Jongin didn’t know under their skin whilst sitting against the wall, legs sprawled in front of them. Some women smoked, talking over the music that was lower here, only to stop and smirk flirtatiously at Jongin as he passed them. The restroom was much more disgusting than what he’s normally used to, but he reminded himself that he hadn’t gone there to review the building.

On his way out, the door hit something and Jongin leaned to look only to find a woman staring back at him in question. Her eyes were shiny, wide like he liked them to be. Her hair was a bit short, reaching her shoulders just a bit and her body was far from his ideal. But she was petite, and her eyes carried a promise of suggestiveness so it made up for what she was lacking otherwise. Jongin smirked at her before he walked back into the bar, the music engulfing him.

Her face was something he’d easily forget, but he couldn’t. Instead, his eyes kept searching amongst the crowds as he sat with his friends in one corner. He kept thinking that she probably belonged to the junkies or just waited there for her friend, only to feel a chill run down his spine when he found her. She was standing a fair distance from them, grinding against some man as her hands linked around his neck. It was after he downed two more drinks that the woman looked at his direction. Jongin wasn’t sure if she was staring at him as she unhooked her hands from the man and pulled away, and moved through the crowd. Jongin’s eyes lost her only to find her back retreating for the restrooms.

“What are you looking at?” Baekhyun leaned to stare at the direction Jongin’s eyes pointed and the younger snapped back to reality. He turned, downed another drink and hissed. “What are you doing?”

Jongin let a smirk show, very mischievous and Baekhyun had already a feeling of the answer; “I found a lucky bitch to fuck tonight.”

Without any further explanation, he slipped away from his friends and let himself be swallowed in the dancing crowd. He didn’t care what they would say, his mind was on that woman and his flesh ached for yet another someone to pass the night with. As soon as he reached the stairs, he felt uneasy. When he walked for the restrooms, he couldn’t find the woman and for his better judgment entered the men’s bathroom since he couldn’t convince himself into the women’s. Just after his first step, he was grabbed by the collar and pulled in, stumbling and fumbling with drunk limps and the old door. The door closed shut, echoing under the music and Jongin looked in front of him only to find the woman pinning him against the wall.

She leaned in and kissed his lips hungrily, lustfully, only for Jongin to feel something bitter in her mouth. Her tongue pushed it into his and he leaned back to test the taste. The woman smiled and pressed her knee in between his legs, pulling a throaty moan from Jongin’s mouth. If there was anything that turned him on so much, it’d be women who wanted to have full control.

The bitter taste lingered a while on his tongue as he leaned down and kissed her again. Her mouth tasted the same bitterness as she kissed back so skillfully and Jongin grinned. His hands grabbed on her waist, pulling her against himself as he felt her hand travel through his belted jeans.

It was the same bitterness that woke him up the next morning and he froze, staring at the ceiling, barely breathing. He couldn’t remember much after meeting the woman in the restroom, and he patted himself in search of his wallet and phone only to realize he was naked. He sat up quickly, suddenly sober, looking around and finding his clothes scattered across the floor, and then he also realized he was back at his bed and sighed in relief. He almost laughed at himself and his reaction.

A gaze at the other side of the bed and he found the back of the woman from last night. Her hair was a nice shade of wild brown and her skin was so pale, filled with mysterious spots once every few inches. Jongin pushed himself off the bed and went for the bathroom for his morning routine of piss and vomit. Such a nice start of a new day.

When he returned to his bedroom, he grabbed his clothes off the floor and threw them on some chair, before he went to down another mouthful of the alcohol on his nightstand. Then, he climbed on the bed and leaned over the woman, eyes looking down in interest. Her make-up was a bit smudged around the eyes, but he noted how the eyeliner was still in place, and how dark it was compared to her complexion. The sheets covered her body from chest and down and he leaned closer to take an inhale of her. She stank of alcohol and sweat—Jongin’s favorite aroma.

His eyes, however, widened slightly as he noticed some black spots on her chin. He moved slightly and the woman grumbled sleepily as she turned and opened her eyes, slowly looking up. And Jongin was left frozen.

Yes, she was stunning. She was so beautiful Jongin wanted to cry. He’d never seen such a lanky, small-framed woman who was so beautiful even as she woke up. But his eyes couldn’t peel from her chin and upon closer inspection, he flew back.

“What’s wrong?” The woman asked and realization slowly nested on Jongin’s chest, so heavy that he wondered if the elephant in the room had sat on him.

The voice was too deep. It was way too husky. And the stubble told of an unbelievable tale he couldn’t fit into his skull.

With a swift move, Jongin tore the sheets from the woman, revealing what he had suspected and he almost cried out-loud as the other shrieked. It was a man. The woman was a _man_. And he remembered nothing of such from last night. In fact, he remembered nothing and there was only one person who could be blamed for that.

Anger started pooling in Jongin and he jumped off the bed, grabbing the first clothing he knew was not his and threw it at the other. “What the fuck are you!? And what did you give to me, you freak of nature?! You drugged me, didn’t you?!” He paced towards the other piece of clothing he didn’t recognize and picked it up. It smelled the same bitterness and he quickly threw it as well as if it had burned him.

“You didn’t complain last night when you cummed thrice,” the other mumbled as he slowly grabbed on the clothes thrown at him. The lack of any emotion on his face made Jongin angrier by the seconds, a bomb waiting to explode in his chest.

He wanted to punch the other sane but he dared not to touch that _thing_ ever again. He pulled a pair of jeans over his naked form, and let it hang loosely around his hips. His mind was racing as he heard the other shuffle to dress himself. Soon enough, he was passing in front of him and out of the room. Jongin didn’t move from where he stood—glaring into empty space, angry at everyone except himself—until he heard the front door open and close.

And then everything fell into pieces and the realization slowly came upon him. Jongin wasn’t sure what had happened, but whatever it was, it was wrong and disgusting.

He wasn’t even sure of what he was supposed to do now.

His frowned eyes fell on the floor, catching sight of a small transparent package with three white pills. Jongin didn’t know much about those kinds of stuff, since he always wandered down the easy and legal path of addiction. But just because of that, he was curious. He picked it up and inspected it from all angles, calculating how many years in jail would he spend if police caught him with that amount.

 _Not_ _much_ , he guessed.

Probably a decade, considering the strict laws about drugs.

Maybe less if he proved it was not his.

But who was he trying to kid? He stank and he already had it in him.

Most likely more than a decade.


	2. Tock

The days turned into agonizing nights and Jongin hated it.

He hated how he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy everything like before.

He hated it how his mind would wander back to those pills and that man who’d introduced them to him.

He hated how the woman beneath him was not enough to make him feel pleasure.

He’d already gone through those three pills and Jongin hated to admit that he wanted more. More of them and more of what they offered. Every single drop of insanity they gave him was unbelievably precious.

That was why he stood here, in front of the club’s door, tucked in some back streets and dark alleys. His mind was rushing with all kinds of thoughts but all the more, what made him push the door in was the promise of the bittersweet taste. The place was packed at past one in the morning, people still dancing and drinking. Jongin spared a glance around but the dim lights didn’t show him any sign of that forsaken man.

Thus, he decided to walk towards the restrooms, just where he’d found him the first time.

The whole staircase stunk booze and he found the same crowd there like last time; junkies and addicts, and the occasional couple that made-out. Jongin passed them all but not without staring at the lost cases for people sitting on the ground, trapped in their own high, syringes hanging from the inside of their elbows. No, Jongin would never end up like that. He would never stoop that low.

He was just testing waters.

Further down the hall, he found the man he despised with all his being. He stood against the wall, smoking on some cigarette Jongin doubted to be legal. Half of his hair was caught in a messy ponytail, hanging from the back top of his head. His clothing worn, dirtied with all kinds of markings, stained from restless nights and mornings at unknown beds. His skin was spotted, as if it was stained from the midnight touches as well. His whole appearance screamed trouble but Jongin found himself finding something else.

What it was, he didn’t know.

But he swore it was something beautiful.

The man lowered his cigarette from his mouth, lips parting just enough to let a thick cloud of white into the air, as he looked up at Jongin who approached. Jongin could not see a single emotion in his eyes and that was enough to ensure him said man was beyond reality at that very moment. He was most likely trapped in the same high the rest of the junkies around them were.

“Came to ask for another night?” The man asked, his thin, calloused fingers bringing the smoking stick back to his lips. “You know, I am not _that_ generous. I have to survive somehow.” His voice was so hoarse as if he’d been drinking non-stop the past couple hours.

“Stop acting like a whore,” Jongin grumbled. He was angry. He hated the man; he hated his face and everything he’d done to him. But he also knew he was the only one he knew of that had what he had been asking for the past few days. “I came for what you gave me. I will buy it off you.”

The man let a chuckle, amusement almost reaching his eyes, but not really.

He barely wore any emotion on his face.

“It’s not for sale.”

“Then tell me who sells it.”

“No can do.” Jongin was burning from anger as the man blew smoke into his face. The smell had already confirmed his previous assumptions since the whole hall stunk of weed.

With a swift move, Jongin grabbed the other by the collar of his shirt, pinning him against the wall. He barely saw some surprise in his eyes but the stone-hard expression on his face did not even falter. It was as if the man was so exhausted he didn’t care about being man-handled like that. He didn’t appear to care about anything at all. “Listen here, you cock-sucker. You either tell me or I will beat your ass into the nearest hospital.”

A smirk played on his lips, so desperate, so tired, so _done_ of everything. And the man leaned closer to Jongin’s face, his breath carrying the aroma of marijuana as he spoke of a light challenge; “Then do so. I’ve been waiting for it.”

_“I’ve been waiting for this.”_

_“Someone to wake me up.”_

_“Someone to knock the air out of me.”_

_“The sense out of my head.”_

_“Someone to knock me out of this world.”_

_“And into the Hell I escaped from.”_

***

Jongin looked down at Luhan.

His name was Luhan, as he had gotten to know after their first encounter. He remembered he’d pulled him out of the club and threatened him some more but he didn’t get what he wanted. Therefore, Jongin returned to the club the following night with a nice pack of money to lure the other. Only to be refused.

_“What do you want from me? I need those fucking pills.”_

_“You’ll have to offer more than that, little boy.”_

_And he would blow illegal smoke into Jongin’s_ _face, his eyes hooded over the exhaustion._

_“You’ll have to trade your sadness for the paradise.”_

_“You’ll have to trade everything for a speckle of peace.”_

Luhan was a mess, so much Jongin had gotten to know, too.

He seemed to be out of this world, his mind working differently, strangely. Jongin couldn’t understand his way of thinking, his way of moving and carrying himself. He couldn’t understand his motives, his pain and hurt. It was unique.

Uniquely sad.

But Jongin came back to him with the promise of his life, and what he got in return made everything worth it. Everything felt different, more vivid, _new_. Somehow, the next morning was so sweet, the new day so welcoming. And he was back at his bed, the unknown junkie by his side fast asleep, opening his eyes to meet the white ceiling to the sound of light snoring.

He could feel the unusual warmth of the room. It was weird.

But he liked it.

And he stretched his hand to reach the nightstand by his side, and popped yet another pill in his mouth.

Shortly after, everything would be instantly fixed. Even if it was for a short while, it was _right_.

_This_ was right.

And everything would be fine as long as he had this piece of paradise kept in his palm.

***

Jongin ignored the knocking on his door, but it only became louder and it pounded through his hangover so wildly he spun where he sat. Eventually, he shuffled his feet while grumbling, unlocking the unsteady lock and pulling the door in.

“What do you want?”

In front of him stood Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Jongdae, and for some reason they already angered him beyond comprehension.

“Just checking up on you,” Baekhyun said as he walked in, making himself at home. “We thought you were dead by now since you haven’t contacted anyone.”

“That’s all? You could call for that.”

“Might as well break the news to you,” Jongdae exclaimed as he grinned, plopping on the couch next to Baekhyun.

“What news?” Jongin’s sleepy eyes followed Chanyeol who plainly went through his CD collection by the old TV stand.

“Joonmyun’s out.” Before Jongin could ask, Baekhyun added; “We found out he is a freak of nature.”

Chanyeol noticed his struggling and offered an explanation; “Turns out he is a cock-sucker and had been with a man for a year already.”

Jongin had literally no words to reply. He’d never thought of Joonmyun to be like that. Not that he had spent time figuring and assuming anything about Joonmyun—he just didn’t expect something like that from someone like him. As far as he remembered, Joonmyun was an only child from a well-off family much like himself. Maybe more so, Jongin never really bothered to compare their fortunes. One would think he had some restrictions in those kinds of matters, but he obviously chose to risk everything his parents had for something so disgusting. Jongin didn’t doubt one second that Joonmyun’s parents would kick him out the moment they heard something like that, much like Baekhyun and Chanyeol had done from their small group.

But something tugged at him inside, telling him that he was in no place to judge Joonmyun for his choices when he himself was not clean. But then, he was doing it in a manipulative way, so it didn’t count, right? He just wanted yet another dose, so it didn’t matter, right? He was using him, exchanging a night he wouldn’t remember for a couple white pills.

_Right?_

“And to think I let him into my house…” Baekhyun clicked his tongue against the front of his teeth, shaking his head. “Such a disgusting traitor…”

“How did you find out?” Jongin asked softly, and Jongdae looked at him incredibly.

“He had the _nerve_ to kiss a man in the back of the club we were at! Can you believe that?”

“Let’s not talk about that anymore, shall we? He’s out and that’s that. As for the good news…” Baekhyun stretched his hand out, a small piece of paper in between his fingers. “We’re going here tonight and you’re coming with us because I found you another job.”

Jongin was still too cautious, not letting a sound out. The hangover was still there, too, and mixed with the anxiety and the news, it made everything more hurtful. He grabbed the paper, examining it. It had a dark figure which was mid-dance. Jongin was fast to recognize it to be him from his dance crew days a year ago or so. He didn’t know why any of them had kept it for so long considering he was kicked out after a dispute with another crew member. But he didn’t care enough to ask either.

“Strip club down at your favorite district. Make the audience happy and you get extra booze.”

“The posters have been up for a week or so already so there’s bound to be quite the amount of people.” Jongdae added and Jongin groaned some more.

“I don’t have time to practice though.” _Let alone the state of mind._

“Just please the audience and flirt with whoever’s in doubt. And bam!” Baekhyun threw his arms in the air for extra effect, a wide grin on his face. “Free alcohol and numerous women to choose from!”

Jongin couldn’t feel more anxious about that.

***

Much like what he was promised, the place was packed. Jongin made his way through the numerous women drinking cocktails and sending not-so-subtle glances his way. He wore way too fitting clothes but he knew that those were that would show his build the best. He’d even brushed and styled his blonde hair quite messily for that night—which he normally didn’t tend to do normally. Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Jongdae were already in some VIP section Jongin didn’t bother to remember. They’d come to him for the drinks as soon as he finished anyways.

Jongin was more than glad to entertain the crowd, basking in the females’ screams and hollers. If there was something that hadn’t changed through his years, it was how he loved the attention directed at him. His movements were fluid-like, steps calculated on the slightly raised stage. The lights were blinding him and the aroma of alcohol made him dizzy. But he loved everything in that very moment and he even took his time with locking eyes with random women through the crowd and flirting with them whilst dancing seductively.

That was until he found a familiar pair of cat-eyes, black charcoal drawn around them so messily, staring at him from the back of the crowd.

Jongin’s last professionalism faltered and he almost tripped during his current move. He didn’t remember inviting Luhan here. He hadn’t even seen the man since a few days ago when they’d met up for his illegal dose. Thus, he was very surprised when he saw the man standing there, prepped and all, and leaning against another.

Jongin’s body continued to flow with the beat but his eyes tore holes at the sight of Luhan leaning up towards a taller man by his side. The lights dimmed the slightest and Jongin lost sight of them, but the red that flashed afterwards made his skin boil.

Luhan was kissing.

Someone else.

Jongin wasn’t sure what had gotten into him—and he’d later blame it on the pills—but he was fast to jump off the stage and push himself through the crowd. The closer he got to his destination, the angrier he became. He could only see red by the time he reached them and without a word spoken, he grabbed on Luhan, pulling him roughly away from the other and landing a punch into the unknown man’s face. The collusion left his right knuckles pounding from the force he used in the hit but he was proud of the blood that tickled the victim’s nose.

There were yells of surprise around them, people moving away to make room, and Luhan pulled his arm away from Jongin’s grip, black eyes glaring up at him.

“What the hell, Jongin?!”

The man had already collected himself the slightest, and after pressing his nose for a while, he moved to return the hit. Luhan was fast to catch his arm and Jongin was left speechless because he’d never expected him to have any strength in his bony figure, let alone enough to stop a forceful punch from a taller, much bulkier young man.

“Stop, Sehun. It’s alright.” The man—Sehun—lowered his hand and stepped back. His glare, however, did not leave Jongin’s face.

Luhan, then, turned at Jongin, anger sipping through his eyes.

“What the fuck, Jongin? What’s wrong with you?! Are you fucking insane?!”

Jongin froze, staring back at the shorter young man. He couldn’t find in himself to speak. He couldn’t find any words to reply. He couldn’t even make sense of his actions at this point. His throat felt so dry.

Was he insane?

He wasn’t sure.

Could be.

Hopefully not.

It was at that moment, under all the stares of both customers and his friends’, that he mentally collapsed. And the only reaction he could master was that of an _escape_.

Maybe it was the pills, maybe Jongin was just starting to lose his mind. His rational thinking, his better judgment. And he knew where he would throw all that responsibility on, he knew whose fault it was.

A hand appeared out of nowhere and caught on his arm. Only then did Jongin realize he’d been followed. Being tagged back, he came face to face with that cute, beautiful Luhan, who appeared more concerned than anything else. Yet, no emotion touched his eyes, just like always. But the mild worry made Jongin feel special.

Special because even if the first emotion Luhan had showed was anger, it was all directed at him.

Him, the special manipulator he was.

“What is wrong, Jongin?”

Jongin wasn’t sure how he was supposed to explain. How was he supposed to say Luhan was not allowed to be touched by anyone except him without sounding needy, controlling, out of his mind. Jongin was an only child; he’d never learned to share his possessions. What was his, was only his. No one else’s.

Just his.

He didn’t do well with sharing.

The answer came out in a form of a forceful grip on Luhan’s jacket collar and a wild pin against the cold wall. There was a knowing spark in the shorter man’s eyes and amusement tugged the corner of his lips in a smirk of quick realization. All before Jongin leaned his whole body against him, trapping him between himself and the bricks, all while claiming what was his with a forceful kiss. The thought of another man’s saliva touching his precious _escape_ made him hurl. But he was in need of showing Luhan just whose he was.

And, unbeknownst to both of them, there had been a third person present during that scene.


	3. Drop

Jongin wasn’t afraid of a lot of things in his life.

He was an overall confident child, rule-breaking teen and lost young adult. He was never doubtful of himself or his abilities—he thought of himself very strong.

Thus, he could walk down an alley without fearing anything.

Except now.

There were sirens echoing through the numerous alleyways in the whole neighborhood. Police.

They were hot on their heels as Jongin ran for his dear life, holding onto Luhan’s hand, guiding them through the turns in search of their freedom.

Winter had come and with it came a season they leaned more and more on each other, only to walk the wrong blocks at the night policemen wanted to ambush.

Jongin could hear the police cars and as soon as they reached the main street, white headlights shined on them. With a low “fuck!”, he pulled Luhan along across the street, the sounds of threats coming through megaphones drowning their labored breaths. He wasn’t sure where they were going but home was way too far and they stepped onto the large bridge parting the Han river in two. Another car appeared and drove after them.

They were surrounded.

If they were caught now, it’d be the end of them.

As intoxicated as they were, at their drugged state, they also carried huge amounts of pills in their pockets.

Jongin came to a sudden stop, turning around and facing a much terrified Luhan. They were both scared. If they were to be caught now, who knew when they would feel such freedom again.

If ever.

“Do you trust me?”

Luhan glanced over his shoulder at the cars approaching, threats of them to surrender echoing so loudly at the late hour. Then, he looked back and nodded firmly.

“Of course.”

“Then jump.”

Luhan wasn’t fast to register everything.

In mere seconds, Jongin had pushed him away from himself and the air engulfed him as the sirens became more and more distant. And then he fell into cold water. He heard Jongin’s body slam the surface of the river shortly after. Luhan swam towards him, both grabbing on each other tightly. As if they had to make sure they were still there.

Alive.

Awake.

Free.

_“Always dreaming of the end.”_

_“But it never comes.”_

_“Now it feels closer than ever.”_

_“But voices guide me back.”_

_“Someone’s asking for me.”_

_“And I have to return.”_

The weather was poor and the wind made both of them tremble as they fell on the grass. Jongin lay over Luhan, covering him from the cold and the other’s trembling hands grabbed on his wet clothes. Their breaths were short and fast, their eyes wide after the temperature shock. They locked their stares, both staring whilst trying to survive the bone-chilling cold.

And they laughed, their breaths coming out as white mists.

They’d somehow survived the fall and swam to shore in freezing water. And they were still somehow alive and breathing.

They’d somehow made it to safety.

Together.

Somehow.

And the pills in the inside of Jongin’s jacket made it all worth it.

***

The days and nights that Jongin would spend with Luhan at his apartment were countless. They’d stay up until early in the morning, cuddled in the small balcony, holding onto each other and a thick blanket. They’d greet the morning sun, the first birds to chirp and the first cars to drive floors below.

It was those hours that were the quietest, the most calming, that they’d enjoy each other’s company the most.

And Jongin would listen to Luhan talk about this paradise that was meant for them and only them. At first, the blond didn’t believe it. But it started to become tempting the more Luhan would talk about it.

_It is a world of happiness_ , Luhan would say. _There, there’ll be no one except us. There’ll be nothing sharp to hurt us, just us. We’ll have everything we wished for in this life, we’ll be given everything we deserve but never got. Afterlife is so kind, she’ll grand us so much, Jonginnie! She’ll give us everything we ever dreamed of. Do you believe that? Everything, Jonginnie! She’ll spare our souls and make us well again. We’ll be lost in seas of alcohol and fields of growing weed. We’ll feed on Ecstasy and dress only in our skin. The only thing we have to do, is sacrifice the nothing we have now, Jonginnie. And she’ll give us everything._

_Everything we ever wanted!_

_Do you believe in her, Jonginnie?_

_You do, right?_

Jongin wasn’t entirely sure he did. But it sounded so damn tempting, so beautiful to be a lie, so perfect to be a made-up story. He knew that if there was anyone that would understand them, it’d be Afterlife herself.

There, no one would get in between them, no one would be there to stop them, never to judge them or hold them back. They’d be free; free of responsibilities, of others, of this life. They’d have a safe haven to go to, they’d have someone to protect them from reality and its hungry monsters that were waiting for them at the other side of the door.

Jongin would stare at the sky that slowly turned lighter as clouds slowly started to part themselves from the background. He’d gaze down at the brunet clad in his arms, fragile frame and small body. Jongin would lightly play with the ends of Luhan’s hair and would let a smile show.

_Yes, I believe._

_I believe in her._

_And you._

_And us, lil Lu._

 

***

A few nights after, Jongin came to from a dream of floating smirks and laughing crows.

Only to find out it was part of reality.

The cold brought him back to consciousness. That and the bucket of water being poured on him. He couched himself awake, eyes suddenly wide open and mouth gasping for extra oxygen as if his lungs had been lacking lots of it. The blackness around him was hypnotizing him but the cold wind hitting his wet figure kept him up and alert.

“You’re disgusting, Jongin. I hope you burn in Hell. What even got to you? I bet it was that cock-sucker, right?”

“The guy saw him going at it willingly, Baek. He truly has no defense, does he?”

He could recognize a lot of faces standing around him.

First was Baekhyun’s, the short male and self-proclaimed leader of their group of friends. He was a confident young man with an edgy style of dressing. Chains hung loosely around his black torn jeans, snake piercings below his lips and a ring around his left eyebrow. He dressed to impress, as they often described him in their group. His ego was large and his mouth wider, and his sense of sadism a couple levels over Jongin’s.

Next to him stood Chanyeol, a thin male one and a half heads taller than Baekhyun. He normally wore a permanent frown over his dark eyes and his hair was always messy—despite him insisting he brushed it every day. In his left hand was a baseball bat, painted in red at the end of it and Jongin remembered how he was the only left-handed he’d known.

A bit further back was Jongdae, a short male with a mouth so big it made up for the lost inches of his height. His black hair fit his slightly darker complexion and his eyes were in suspicious slits. Jongin had never met a man that mad. It was well-known Jongdae suffered from bipolar disorder and mild paranoia and Jongin remembered how both of them had found solace in each other due to their similar mental problems. Now, Jongdae didn’t appear very content.

By him was a tall young man Jongin couldn’t recognize. It was only when he moved his head a bit that he could put a name on the face—Sehun. It was the man he’d seen Luhan with back at the strip club a couple weeks ago. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up being here with Jongin’s friends but he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach about it.

“Such a disgrace.” Baekhyun leaned down a bit, hatred written all over his face. “No wonder your parents sent you to the capitol. That way, they wouldn’t have to face their fail of an only child every single day and be disappointed some more. It’s no surprise they sent you those e-mails either,” he forced a laugh and his foot hit Jongin on his chest, pushing him back on the ground when he had tried so hard to raise himself on his knees.

“E-mail?” Jongdae asked from beside him.

“He never did talk to anyone about it, did he?” Another laugh and Baekhyun’s features hardened some more, if that was possible by then. “He was kicked out of the university due to missing continuously the past months. His parents refuse to pay his expenses now that he’s been deemed useless. And the cherry on top?” Baekhyun smirked wickedly, leaning into Jongin’s bloodied, swollen face.

“They know _everything.”_

***

The candy Luhan often munched on turned out to be illegal to say the least.

Jongin had picked up a dangerous addiction to them over a month ago and he would lie to himself if he said he wanted to stop taking them. They’d often float in bliss and pleasure together, hand in hand, enjoying the stimulation of the outside world to their hyper nerves. There were so many things that felt new to him, as if he was experiencing them for the first time every time he played with the caramels. His senses were too sensitive and each caress, each kiss and each fuck left Jongin ask for more. More of everything, more of that candy, more of this sensation.

Ecstasy was there to catch him when he’d fall after a long day, it was there to help him bounce back on his feet when nothing else did. It was there to pick his broken pieces and tend his wounds, take care of his wrongdoings. It was just Ecstasy and Luhan that understood him. Only the two of them.

No one else in this world could understand.

Jongin would feel like a winner but was nothing but a loser as soon as those couple magical hours passed. And he would be going through his and Luhan’s clothes in search of a new dose. Money he stored for alcohol was wasted on the drug, and the stash of rent payment was exchanged for more.

And more.

And more.

_More_.

He would gasp loudly into the night, grabbing so tightly on thin, boney hips. He’d thrust so harshly in his stupor that he would feel the bruises and pain through Luhan’s breaths after they’d be done. Sweaty skin would clash and moans echoed from wall to wall. They didn’t care if someone would hear them—they weren’t trying to hide anyways.

Jongin could feel his blond hair stick to his forehead and the back of his neck, but much more he felt the warmth as Luhan engulfed him. It made him twitch and the hairs stood on edge as a chill ran down his spine and everything faded into colorful lights and abstract shapes. Somewhere below him he heard Luhan scream his name but he was way too absorbed in his own little world to care right now.

_Everything will be back to what it was, so let’s enjoy this as long as it lasts._

Jongin would hold on Luhan’s body so tightly. As if he was protecting Luhan from everything around them. The brunet would be long asleep and Jongin would stay up staring. Staring at everything pass them and not throw even a glance at them. They were not worthy, as it seemed. But Jongin had everything he wished for, right there in his arms.

It was Luhan who wanted more.

_The dream you live is nothing but a lie. But let’s pretend it’s real and ignore everything else. For our own sake._

Those alleys would be as dark as ever, the street lights doing little to help Jongin’s eyes. Had he not come so many hundreds of times before, he’d be lost by now. But he knew every single web-like backstreet so he could walk through them with blindfolded eyes.

He’d stopped Luhan from coming here weeks ago—it wasn’t safe for him here, despite him being the one living the street life for years. Jongin didn’t want him here and that was that.

He’d meet up with that same hooded figure, beg for some pills whilst offering whatever he had—this time it was his expensive watch.

Luhan would be happy, though, if he came back in the evening with a small gift.

And if Luhan was happy, as messed up as Jongin was, he’d be happy too.


	4. And there it goes again

Luhan knew he ought to do something. Time was running out, while luxury was waiting for them. He knew he was far too young, far too weak to do anything about it. However, he knew Jongin had been long ago ready, by the way he’d cheated.

-

The door had been left slightly ajar—Luhan wasn’t sure why, at first. He already had a hard time walking in a straight line as it was. His legs screamed and his muscles complained from all the running he’d been doing that evening.

The wood of the floor had traces of dirt, indicating the pair of shoes Jongin never bothered to take off. Furniture had been moved in his way to the hallway, chairs thrown aside, decorations laying on the floor after Jongin probably tried to stabilize himself by grabbing onto shelves. Luhan noticed a piece of paper on the small couch—the same that told of endless nights, sporting numerous spots that told tales of unethical actions. It was white but had been worn out so fast, nothing but a scrabbled and stretched out page. Luhan hesitated a bit. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting it to write, or who it was from. It looked too fancy to be the infrequent letters of nothing Jongin would leave for him to find.

The paper was too white, the letters too fancy.

Picking it up, his eyes barely focused on the words in front of him. Out of need, he put his hand into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling a small white pill and placing it on his tongue like the candy it was.

Luhan hadn’t dropped from school, like he thought. He’d actually been unable to attend it due to his abusive life. His parents hadn’t even registered him to any class. He was a lost child in the world of elders. Thus, fancy words like “disowned” and “court” and “lawyer” made little sense to him. The paragraphs seemingly told of a serious matter, finishing off with a date of the fore-mentioned event, and Luhan frowned. Jongin most likely hadn’t taken it well, considering he’d thrown the coffee table against the wall, leaving two deep holes from the collusion.

-

Jongin’s promises floated in his mind on repeat. Every single little one of them.

The times of lying on the grass in some remote park after midnight, clenching on each other, a bottle of liqueur and a small package of pills clouded his eyes. There, Jongin smiled his broken smile that Luhan would kiss away. He’d also kiss away the bruises, take away the pain of punches and hits, inhale the nasty smell of disgusting comments and words.

Luhan would take in all of Jongin’s pain, clam it in the same casket he had thrown his own pain into a long, _long_ while ago.

And they’d kiss and promise to each other to be together _forever_.

Until the pain would fade, and they’d be happy.

Together.

_Forever_.

-

The brunet walked further into the apartment only to find the bathroom’s light on and a couple red stains against the wooden floor which led into their bedroom. The door was left ajar and he pushed it in only to have a rusty smell reach his nostrils. Stepping inside, he momentarily froze.

In the corner of the room, Jongin’s body was leaning against the wall, unmoving. His wrist was soaked in red and his eyes heavily hooded. His clothes were washed in pools of red and a knife and his cell phone were by his side, also painted in red. _Everything_ was red.

There were handprints on the walls, some more on the sheets of the bed, but most of the stains were on the floor. Luhan slowly walked to his boyfriend, eyes empty as they could be, and crouched in front of him. Jongin was still there, he could sense him. His eyes were still moving, head slowly sliding against the wall and Luhan lovingly placed his fingers against his cheek.

So cold.

Almost dead.

Luhan wanted to say sorry, apologize for everything, but all that came out was disappointment.

“Why in such hurry, Jongin…?” His whisper was too low to fill the silence. That fact made him feel slightly lonely already. Jongin moved his head a bit, inches away from Luhan’s hand, a small whimper leaving his bloodied lips. “Shhh… Soon, my love.”

There was indescribable fear in Jongin’s eyes and Luhan couldn’t but smile tightly.

“Soon, it’ll be just us, Jongin. Just us, Jonginie. No one else.”

The pills had already started working and that kind of gave Luhan relief. He leaned closer, swallowing another scared whimper with his lips. He could taste Jongin’s blood, vomit—it was everything on his mouth. The sour but sweet taste; the bittersweet feeling. Then, he leaned back and his eyes fell on the sharp knife by them.

“Silly, Jonginie! You shouldn’t have used the blade. Now your wrist will forever be wounded. Silly Jonginie didn’t know he’d carry his scars to the afterlife!” Luhan tsk-ed and grabbed on the knife, eyes inspecting it whilst wearing an indifferent expression.

And then, he chanted;

“ You should have left your body die from the pills.

Little by little, it’d destroy you.

From the inside, like a disease.

And it’d let you die peacefully.

Silly Jonginie!

Don’t you remember, my love?

You have to exchange your sadness for the paradise.

We’ll both be free after tonight, _Jonginie_.”

-

Jongin had promised him the whole world when both of them knew they didn’t deserve even a speckle of it.

Luhan had nodded his head.

He’d planted ideas in that young, troublesome mind of his.

There was indeed an afterlife. He was just unsure of whether they were worthy of it.

Even so, Luhan would build their own world from scratch, if that would promise him it’d be only the two of them. No one else.

Just them.

Alcohol.

And the pills.

-

“Mr Oh, where are we going?” The short female could barely keep up with the fast pace of the doctor’s. Unlike her, he was very tall, his legs long and his stride fast. Her white robe flew around her and she had to pull back one side over her shoulder.

“I want you to meet one of our oldest patients, Hyeri,” the doctor replied and came to a sudden halt, almost making the young woman behind him bump into him. Quickly, he pressed the buttons and the elevator was soon welcoming them inside. The music was the only relaxing thing in this whole clinic.

“He’d been with us for sixteen years already but has made no progress at all. Currently, his doctor is retiring so we need a new one assigned to him. He’ll be your only patient from now on.”

“Does he really need such surveillance?”

“Not so,” the doctor glanced at her, a light feeling of sadness flickering in his eyes. “His case has been stable for years, but everyday is a replay so it takes up the whole of your day, eventually.”

The blonde girl nodded without a word. She wasn’t sure what she was about to face, but she was sure it wouldn’t be pleasant, if the pitied looks she’d gotten that morning was anything to go by. The elevator came to a stop at the seventh floor, revealing white walls and white floors, with the occasional pot of tall, green plants.

The room itself was located at the far end, where the silence was deafening, and she’d later find out that no other patient was on that floor. It was so because noises affected the patient to a huge degree.

The doctor pushed the door open after unlocking it, revealing yet another white room with white furniture. The sun reflected everything and the whole room felt surreal by the amount of light in it. There, on the bed, the sunrays lit a thin, frail figure that had its arms tied in a jacket. He didn’t as much as raise his head, his eyes were digging holes into the floor.

“Hello Luhan,” the doctor spoke but, just as expected, received no greeting. “This is Kim Hyeri, she’ll be assigned as your personal doctor from now on. She’ll come and do your checkups starting today.” He lightly eyed the young woman, who immediately bowed her head slightly,

“I’m Kim Hyeri, I hope we can be friends and overcome anything together.”

Then, the doctor handed her a file and she didn’t have the chance to ask him about it since he walked out quickly. She looked on the papers in the file, all of the same format, with the same questions and the same number of dots to complete them.  There were even some questions that had the answers below, she just had to circle the one that fitted the day.

She felt like this piece of paper would become one with her everyday routine.

“So, Luhan, how are you feeling today?” she read out and glanced at the form. The man didn’t flinch, she circled the answer.

“Are you okay?”

The man shrugged and that response alone made her confidence bloom a bit.

“Is…” Hyeri frowned at the nature of the question but continued anyways, “ _Jongin_ okay today?”

Luhan quickly shook his head.

“Why?” she pressed, “Why is he not okay?”

“Because,” his voice was husky, almost as if he hadn’t talked for days—which could might as well be the case, ”he died.”

“How did he die?” Hyeri couldn’t but frown in interest.

“He took some pills.”

“Why did he take them? Was he trying to kill himself?” The young woman gulped a bit as the man raised his head, revealing scars of deep cuts across his face.

“No, _I_ was trying to kill him.”

“But why?”

“So we could be in the afterlife.”

“Where?”

“In the afterlife.”

Hyeri’s hand fell to her side, the patient’s eyes capturing her entirely. She felt paralyzed, almost feeling the emotions cursing the man’s veins as her own. She felt trapped in a trace she couldn’t escape.

“He was ready; to _leave_. I had been waiting for him for so long. It was the only right thing. We would be happy there, it’d be just us. He’d promised me we’d be together for ever.”

_Where we will be free, alone. Away from sadness and tears and pain. Where it’ll only be us, Luhan._

“But you see,” Luhan’s eyes lowered, a sadness looming over his head. Hyeri could see the trouble in his stare, the mixed thoughts, the frustration of years of suffering without his loved one. The pain was still there, as if it’d been just yesterday he’d been brought in the clinic after a suicide attempt. As if it was just yesterday when he’d killed his boyfriend.

Only to re-live the same nightmare every single day.

Hyeri felt her heart clench at the raw anger and hatred in his next three words.

“I was _denied_.”

 

_“I’ve been waiting for this.”_

_“Someone to wake me up.”_

_“Someone to knock the air out of me.”_

_“The sense out of my head.”_

_“Someone to knock me out of this world.”_

_“And into the Hell I escaped from.”_

_“You’ll have to trade everything for a speckle of peace.”_

_“Always dreaming of the end.”_

_“But it never comes.”_

_“Now it feels closer than ever.”_

_“But voices guide me back.”_

_“Someone’s asking for me.”_

_“And I have to **return**.”_


End file.
